Stuck
by savedher
Summary: A series of fics based on Tumblr's TDBM drabbles. Most are fluff. Rated T just in case. These are in chronological order from my first fanfic on.
1. Stuck

Lucien had been flirting with his housekeeper again…more successfully than usual. But then, she was more than a housekeeper to him now.

He had maneuvered himself to stand behind her so he could rub her arms like he had done so often before the bus. Before Adelaide.

"I think you should stick to medicine," she said.

"Maybe I should."

He gently turned her shoulders toward him so he could kiss her. BLOODY HELL, he thought as the phone rang just before their lips met.

"I'll get that," said Jean.

"No, no, no. You've got your hands full. I'll, um..."

Lucien was needed at the morgue. He hung up the phone and paused. It seemed he was always stuck between his rock, Jean, and the hard place that was his profession, but more importantly, his duty. Not just to himself or the community but to his father's legacy and to Jean, herself. He straightened his shoulders and walked back to the sunroom. Jean was surprised to see him again so soon.

"Jean, a body was found…"

She nodded. "Yes, I'd assumed."

"There is just one thing I need to do before I go."

He pulled her close and gently kissed her. When her hands moved to his shoulders, he was encouraged enough to deepen the kiss. Reluctantly, he moved his mouth to her forehead.

"I really do need to…"

"I know.

"But we can pick up where we left off when I get home?"

"I'd like that, Lucien."

He smiled and didn't stop smiling even as he entered the morgue.

"Alice! What have we got?"

"My, my! Lunch must have been a special occasion." She said. "You're still wearing some of it." She touched her lips.

Lucien had the grace to look sheepish as he wiped Jean's lipstick off his mouth.


	2. A Night to Remember

Jean carried the large box into Lucien's bedroom and placed it on his bed. She stripped off her work clothes and placed them in a neat pile by the box. She carefully removed the dress, pulled it on, and turned to face the full length mirror.

The dress fit like it was made for her. She frowned at her reflection, but there was nothing to criticize. She turned to one side then the other, trying to see all angles. 'It's a pity I will never have an occasion to wear this,' she thought. 'Hmm…should I put my hair up?' She tried holding her hair up in a bun. 'No…I think down…' She pulled the bobby pins out of her hair and ran her fingers through it so the curls loosened. 'Yes, that's it.'

She couldn't resist the urge. She twirled in front of the mirror. She paused to enjoy the feel of the dress swishing against her legs. 'Why not?' she thought and twirled again and again. She gasped when Lucien's arms wrapped around her and she found herself dancing with her fiancé… almost fiancé.

"Lucien! I didn't expect you home tonight."

"Fate must have intervened so I could witness this. Jean, you are a vision!" He gave her a little squeeze as he led her around the room.

"I'm sorry to have invaded your bedroom, but yours is the only mirror…"

"Jean, you're in my bedroom every day."

"Yes, but it's my job to look after you."

"I hope it's more than a job now."

"Oh Lucien, you know what I mean."

"This bedroom is yours the moment you want it, Jean."

She thought it best not to reply, but she couldn't help smiling back at him when he raised an eyebrow and smirked at her.

"If the Ballarat busybodies could see you now, they would know once and for all that I am the one marrying above my station."

She kissed him on the cheek for that. "Lucien, I could never wear this in public!"

"Why not? If it was fashionable…I'd say about 30 years ago? There's no reason you couldn't."

"I didn't think you knew anything about fashion, Lucien. That's right. My aunt passed away recently and left me this dress and the other contents of that box."

"Your aunt? There is still so much I don't know about you, Jean."

"Yes, well, the Ballarat busybodies could fill you in."

Lucien grimaced. "I'd like to give them all a tongue lashing."

Jean ran her hand down the side of his face. "You need to learn to control your own tongue, Lucien Blake."

"Mrs. B." he said. She knew he was adding a silent 'lake' to that, as he'd been doing for weeks. She refused to comment on it, but she hadn't yet been able to suppress the smile that accompanied his use of the nickname.

"Mrs. B." he repeated, his voice much deeper than it was before. "Perhaps you could help me learn to control it."

Through his downcast lashes, she could see the dull flame of desire. He leaned forward in a graceful dip and kissed her.

Jean wasn't the swooning type, but she clung to him as he slowly righted them.

Jean took a moment to catch her breath. "Based on the evidence just provided, I don't believe you need further instruction. Besides, I'm quite out of practice, myself."

"Well then, if you have no objections, we'd best get started on your lessons."

Jean had none.


	3. Christmas in August

She noticed the box the moment she opened the door. Curious, she moved to the bed where it rested and picked it up. It was extravagantly wrapped. It could only be a gift from Lucien, but for what occasion? Christmas was still months away.

Had he wanted to be there to see her open it, he would have placed it in her hands himself, so she carefully removed the ribbons and paper and pulled the top off the box. "Oh Lucien."

She wasn't surprised to hear a footfall in the hallway a few moments later. She looked up and saw his silhouette through the frosted glass of her door.

Lucien had started to move back down the hall by the time she opened the door to him.

"Lucien?"

"I hope I wasn't being presumptuous…" He stopped speaking once his eyes found her.

"Jean." His voice was a ragged whisper.

"You'd better come in, Lucien." Jean stepped aside so he could do so.

"I didn't think I'd see you in it until our wedding night." He was sitting politely on her bed. His hands were in his lap, but he couldn't keep his eyes off her.

"Why did you give it to me now?"

"You deserve fine things, Jean. The best. I don't see why I should wait to give them to you."

She moved to stand in front of him, her knees grazing against his. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, resting his head on her stomach.

Jean loosened his grip and heard him gasp as she straddled his lap. "Jean?"

She unbuttoned his waistcoat and started tugging at his shirt. "It's so unfair!" Frustrated, she rested her forehead against his.

"What is it, Jean?"

"You could have me naked and writhing in a minute flat, but I have to work my way through five layers of clothing."

He laughed, even as he was running his hand up her thigh. He stopped laughing when he realized she wasn't wearing anything underneath his gift.

"Jean?" He paused. "Is this what you want?"

"I'm not dead, Lucien. It's what I've always wanted."

"But…now?"

"I don't see why I should wait to give you fine things."

It took twice as long as she had predicted to have her naked and writhing. But he thought it only fair to help her since they were his buttons.


	4. A Well-Intended Gift

She looked at his latest gift with a mixture of revulsion and amusement. "No, Lucien."

"But just last week you complained that I had ruined two blouses and your favorite skirt."

The exasperation on her face was not lost on him. "You are rather a difficult employer."

He opened his mouth, but her expression kept him silent.

"I will not be a kept woman, Lucien. Until we are married, I will continue to be your housekeeper and receptionist."

He sighed, then tried again. "The ad stated…"

"Where did you read this ad?"

"In a magazine. At the club."

"That explains quite a lot. What made you think this was appropriate?"

"Patrick Tyneman …"

"It's all becoming clear now." She rolled her eyes.

"He was engrossed in the magazine…"

"Ever suspicious of him, you read it cover to cover?"

"Yes."

"And for some reason you thought of me?"

"I think of you every moment of every day." His arms folded around her. His beard tickled as he nuzzled her ear.

She resisted the impulse to roll her eyes again. It was harder to resist the urge to turn around and return his embrace.

Pulling herself away, she paused to give him a half smile. "Now, we both have work to do, so it's best we get back to it."

Having finished her daily routine, she found she had some free time before starting dinner. Her curiosity got the better of her, so she stopped to pick up the box and carried it to her bedroom.

She looked in the mirror with amusement, imagining his expression if he could see her now. He really was the most ridiculous, clueless man. Her back to the mirror, she bent over and stifled a laugh. No, this would not do. She had a hard enough time keeping his hands off her.

That's when she saw him. He was frozen in the doorway, hand raised to knock, mouth open to announce himself.

She realized the pose she had taken gave him an ample view of all of her assets. She hurriedly stood and attempted to adjust her attire, but she knew it was a lost cause.

She blinked, and his arms were around her. His mouth crushing hers. "Jean."

When he said her name like that, she lost all resistance to his advances. His hands sought every inch of exposed skin. There was quite a lot of it, she thought with dismay. Even so, she made a wounded sound when he pulled away.

"I'm sorry, Jean." He sat on her bed, looking completely shaken.

She wanted to soothe him, but was afraid to encourage more embraces. She thought teasing him would be best option.

"Well, Lucien? Do you want me to wear my new uniform as your receptionist or only when I'm performing my duties as your housekeeper?"

"I knew the French could be risqué, but…"

"A French maid is not a housekeeper, Lucien."

"No." His wistful expression tugged at her heart. "No, I realize that now."

She knew she shouldn't, but she found herself settling in his lap with her arms around his neck. "Maybe we should keep it…for special occasions."

He raised his eyebrow and gave her such a lascivious once-over that she shivered.

"Are you cold?"

The flush on her chest and cheeks made it plain that she wasn't.

He began to kiss along the neckline of her costume. The sensation of his beard making its way across her breast caused her entire body to tingle. Her ears were ringing. No…that was actual ringing. Bloody phone! She thought.

Lucien raised his head. His eyes were unfocused, but his expression was determined. "I don't hear anything." He bent back to his task, and in a moment, the only sound she could hear was the rapid beat of her heart.


End file.
